


There's No Return To Sender

by thefourofswords



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Demons, First Time, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 20:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefourofswords/pseuds/thefourofswords
Summary: “Oh will you relax!” the demon interrupted. “I’m trying to help you here! You wanna fuck him and we’re gonna find a way to get you that.”“What?” Patrick spat out, jumping to his feet. This was news to him.“What?” the demon replied.“I don’t want to fuck him!” Patrick protested, backing away. If he could just get to his keys, he could get out of here, get to the doctor, get help, because he had clearly lost his mind. The imagining demons part should’ve been the first clue maybe, but he’d gotten there eventually!
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 30
Kudos: 178





	There's No Return To Sender

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a comic that luxmachina sent me. It's very much a what-if story. Don't read anything into it. I have no idea what's going on with Jonny's health. I don't even know if he's actually in Arizona retreating from the world. It just amused me for the purposes of this story to think so. 
> 
> Also the bulk of this was written before they basically masturbated all over each other the day of Kaner's 1000th game, so this fic makes it sound like they're talking less than they [apparently] actually are. I thought about re-writing it to include that, but then was like ARG, NO, THIS IS TOO HARD, and didn't. So here we are. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks as ever to routineriots, who is a saint who puts up with my forever demands that she reads things at odd hours. Hope you all enjoy!

“Why...400?” Kaner asked the demon improbably standing in his kitchen getting ash all over the expensive tile flooring. Getting your true heart’s desire from a demon was obviously improbable enough, but getting it for only 400 goals? Why not a thousand? Or at least a nice round number like 500! Even Corey Perry was gonna make it to 400 goals, assuming that Patrick’s true heart’s desire wasn’t for him to not score 400 goals, and Patrick wasn’t saying that it wasn’t. 

“I dunno why 400,” the demon replied, bored, inspecting his nails. “Somebody else came up with the terms, I just enforce ‘em. So now what is it?” 

“Uh, I...I have to think about it?” Patrick replied, admirably evenly, he thought for somebody staring at a demon. In his kitchen. Promising him things. Because he scored 400 career NHL goals. 

“Hah, you think I'm going to listen to you? Most people don't even know what their true heart’s desire is!” he said with an expansive gesture. “I had that one Russian guy insisting he wanted to be a formula one racer for a day, but then I looked, and all he really wanted was to take a ride on a Catbus. Took some wrangling to arrange, lemme tell you.” 

“A Cat...bus?” Patrick asked weakly. 

“You know, from the animated movie? Whatever. It’s fine,” he said, waving a hand. “Don't worry I'm just gonna take a little peek.” 

“Whoa,” Patrick said, backing up. “That’s okay, no peeks necessary.” 

“Relax,” the demon said, reaching for him, “this won’t hurt a bit!” 

The last thing Patrick remembered before hitting the floor was the sharp smell of the ice and a laughing deep voice. 

*

Patrick woke up, slumped uncomfortably on his living room couch, with his feet higher than his head, like somebody had picked him up and tossed him on it like a sack of potatoes. Shrugging himself upright, he had the feeling that that’s exactly what the demon had done. Wow, and he’d been so excited to hit 400 yesterday. If only he’d known it meant losing his mind and/or coming into contact with satanic entities. You’d think somebody, anybody, might’ve warned him. 

Patrick squinted, the demon coming into focus at the other end of the couch, casually watching the Great Pottery Throw Down on Patrick’s TV and twirling something in his hand, a little glowing object that hovered above his fingers. 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” he said, seeming genuinely relieved. The object above his fingers paused, mid-revolution. He plucked it out of the air and waved it at Patrick, leaving shimmering trails in the air. “This was really buried down deep! Never had that happen before!” 

Patrick caught a glimpse of it, and realized it was some kind of card with Jonny’s face on it, and grew alarmed all over again. “Okay whatever you want with me—” 

“Oh will you relax!” the demon interrupted. “I’m trying to help you here! You wanna fuck him and we’re gonna find a way to get you that.” 

“What?” Patrick spat out, jumping to his feet. This was news to him. 

“What?” the demon replied. 

“I don’t want to fuck him!” Patrick protested, backing away. If he could just get to his keys, he could get out of here, get to the doctor, get help, because he had clearly lost his mind. The imagining demons part should’ve been the first clue maybe, but he’d gotten there eventually!

“Well you're a little green, haven't thought that far ahead yet I see, but that is a-okay!” the demon said like it was supposed to be reassuring. “You got one night, princess, so I'm speeding up the timeline here!” 

“Insofar as gifts go, I don't think I like this one,” Patrick said, irritated. 

“Liar,” the demon laughed. And then there was a whooshing noise. The sensation of the floor disappeared beneath his feet, and all he could do was scream. 

*

Patrick was still screaming when he landed on something soft with enough bounce that he actually felt himself propelled back into the air again when he hit. He landed a second time and realized it must be a mattress, covered with soft plush covers. 

The room was so dark he could barely see anything, but the shout of, “What the motherfucking fuck is this!” was instantly recognizable. 

“Hi, Jonny,” he said weakly, slumping back into the covers. 

“Peeks?” Jonny asked, startled. 

“Yup,” he replied, still stunned from his fall through the floor that somehow catapulted him into Arizona and Jonny’s bed. The stupid demon wasn’t playing around. 

The lights clicked on, revealing a half-dressed and sleep disheveled Jonny who was still irritatingly handsome with pillow creases on his cheek and sleep sand in his eyes. He looked up and down and then back at Patrick. “Did you just fall...through my ceiling?” 

“I—yup.”

“How?”

“Well…”

*

“So your wish was to come see me?” Jonny asked. “Aw, Kaner, that’s sweet.” 

“Well you know, hasn’t been the same without you,” Patrick said gruffly. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.” 

There was no reason for Jonny to know the real reason the demon had dumped him here, especially since that was definitely not his true heart’s desire. Patrick was pretty certain if that was his true heart’s desire he’d have at least some idea about it. As he had no ideas about it, it was obviously wrong. Faultless logic. 

“How are you doing?” he asked tentatively. 

Jonny shrugged, like he didn’t really know how to answer. “Well, first things first, do you think you could maybe take your shoes off?” 

“Why?” Patrick asked. 

Jonny eyed him like he’d lost his mind, which, honestly, quite probably had happened, and all of this was a hallucination. Or a dream. A particularly mad dream. “Because you’re in my bed?” Jonny told him. 

“We could move?” Patrick suggested, a little panicked. He didn’t want to go giving this demon further ideas, and it was probably better to get out of bed. 

“Oh no, your stupid demon interrupted my sleep,” Jonny yawned. “I’m comfortable here, just take your shoes off, man.” 

Patrick sighed and kicked them off. 

“Much appreciated.” 

“So what’s up?” Jonny asked, wrapping his arms around a pillow and laying his cheek on it, looking at Patrick through half-lidded eyes. He looked so soft and easy, the way Patrick hadn’t seen him for months now. “Are you proud of yourself? Weird demon rewards program aside?”

Patrick smirked. “Obviously it was just a matter of time.” 

“Obviously,” Jonny said rolling his eyes, but he was smiling. “A thing that only you and seven other guys currently playing in the league have accomplished.” 

“You’ll be one of them, should’ve happened right on my heels, but—”

“Maybe,” Jonny replied evenly. 

“There isn’t any maybe, Jon,” Patrick said sharply. “You can’t leave me to do this alone.” 

“Hey, hey.” Jonny said, holding up a hand. “I’m not—” 

There’s a sudden flash in the room and the smell of wood ash and sulfur. 

“Okay, that should've been enough time to TCOB, I should probably take you back to Chicago now,” a disembodied voice rang through the room before the demon materialized at the foot of the bed. He looked them over with a big grin, face visibly falling when he took in Patrick dressed and lying on top of the covers. 

“Wait...did you do anything at all? WHAT IS THIS!” the demon demanded, outraged. 

Patrick threw up his hands. “I am _not_ going to fuck him!”

“Pardon?” Jonny coughed. 

The demon put his hands on his hips, glaring at Patrick now. “What like, you think I'm gonna judge? I'm a demon! I don’t judge. Fuck who you want! How you want! As many times a day as you want! I’m not going to tell anybody! I mean, besides back at HQ, but that’s because I have to log it, but seriously, you think those guys are gonna blink about that NHL player wanting to get pounded by his captain? We’re talking hell here!”

Patrick stared at him in open-mouthed horror. 

The demon ignored him. “Your boy over here has definitely been around the block! He can get you through your first time jitters. Nothing to be scared of, my friend.” 

“Not in a long time!” Jonny interjected. Patrick shot him a quick glance. That was new information. 

“Did you forget where to stick it?” the demon shot back. He sighed, looking disgusted. “Alright boys, scoot, you aren't the only thing on my schedule.” 

Patrick yelled, “How many times do I have to say this, I'm not—” 

The demon cut him off with a cat-like hiss. “I have never once failed at my job.” 

Patrick blinked at him. “Uh…” 

The demon continued, “I'm a five time employee of the decade, kid, and you aren't going to ruin this for me.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Patrick asked. 

“Not you, baby, maybe everybody you care about? I dunno, I'll have to plan when I've got a moment,” he said, tapping his chin like he was thinking. He shrugged expansively. “I'm so busy right now. But like I said, doesn't have to come to that. Get a move on and everything will be fine!” 

“Does somebody wanna fill me in here?” Jonny asked. 

“Mr. 400 goals wants to ride it, cowboy,” the demon said. “Jeeze, Kaner, he might be pretty, but he’s a little dense. Don’t worry, I'll be back in two hours, and relax, enjoy it, and _nobody has to get hurt_!” 

And with that he blinked out of existence with a dramatic pop. 

“Do I wanna know what they give you at 500?” Jonny asked, blinking. 

“Well it’s not really incentivizing me to find out, I gotta say,” Patrick replied weakly, fisting his hands in Jonny’s covers, refusing to meet his eyes. 

__“Hey,” Jonny said, covering Patrick’s hand with his own. “So I get that you don’t wanna fuck me.”_ _

__“I don’t,” Patrick said quickly._ _

__“Right,” Jonny said, but there was a weird look on his face that Patrick didn’t know how to interpret. Fuck that stupid fucking demon. He was gonna keep scoring goals, because he’d die before letting Mike Modano keep his record, but man, it shouldn’t have to come with a pricetag like being forced to have sex with Jonny! That certainly wasn’t fair to Jonny!_ _

__“As somebody you care about though, I have kind of a vested interest in not being tortured by a demon,” Jonny pointed out. “And I have—well you’re not unattractive, Peeks.”_ _

__“Gee, thanks,” Patrick replied, hugging his knees to his chest. He shut his eyes, feeling guilty. None of this was Jonny’s fault. It was all this stupid demon who decided it knew what was best. When this was over, he was gonna ask Ovechkin if he had actually enjoyed that stupid Catbus thing. He cleared his throat. “I know that we should, uh—”_ _

__“Fuck?” Jonny supplied._ _

__Patrick turned bright red. “Yes that.”_ _

__Jonny nodded. “Any way you prefer? I can go both ways. It’s been a while, but I’m fine with either.”_ _

__Patrick chewed at his lower lip, deliberating. “Well. You shouldn’t have to catch just because a demon decided this is what _I_ wanted.” _ _

__Jonny laughed. “You know there’s nothing wrong with being curious about it, right?”_ _

__Patrick shot him a narrow-eyed look. “What do you mean?”_ _

__“Anal,” Jonny said and then shook his head and clarified before Patrick could say he was ‘very familiar with anal thank you very much,’ “being the receptive partner, I mean.”_ _

__“Ah,” Patrick said._ _

__“Are you?” Jonny asked gently. “Because if we’re gonna do this, I mean, this is your chance to experiment. Might as well get something out of it.”_ _

__Patrick flopped down to the bed and covered his flaming red face with his arm. He was maybe a little curious. Not with men. Not with Jonny! Just in general. He’d heard stuff. He was a fan of orgasms, generally speaking. He did want to know. “Okay, yes fine.”_ _

__*_ _

__It felt good. Fuck did it feel good, the water cascading down all around them, in this palace of a shower. Patrick had asked for the shower, because it seemed the least romantic, and also a good way to ensure things stayed clean, but he hadn’t bargained on the stupid airBNB Jonny had chosen to have the waterfall showerhead and the warm track lighting and black marble. It was a rare occasion that he forgot how much taller Jonny was, but braced on his forearms, forehead against the gold-veined tile, eyes squeezed shut tight, as Jonny fucked him from behind, he felt it especially, trying to keep his spine arched and his hips tilted at just the right angle for each thrust inside. He’d had sex with shorter women before while standing and had not adequately appreciated how much work it was._ _

__Jonny definitely did not need to make a disclaimer for his experience, because fucking god, each stroke inside lit up the backs of Patrick’s eyelids. They were using conditioner as lube, a lot of it, because Jonny didn’t have anything (“Haven’t exactly been hooking up with the pandemic on, Kaner.”) and each thrust, slicked up by the thick consistency, made an obscene squelch that somehow wound the building knot of pressure in his abdomen tighter. If you were forced to have sex with somebody by a demon, you could do worse than Jonathan Toews._ _

__“Okay?” Jonny asked._ _

__And of course he’d want some sort of feedback, the empathetic jerk. Face burning with embarrassment, Patrick weighed through responses. He’d prefer to remain pressed up against the tile, letting Jonny do this until he came, because damn, and then they’d never need to speak of it again, but if he gave too faint praise Jonny would worry and want to stop, but it went against the very core of Patrick’s being to just reveal ‘yes, this great anal experiment of yours is so good I might die.’_ _

__All he managed was a strangled, “Just fine.”_ _

__Jonny pushed in close, trapping him body to body against the warm tile, and the new angle made Patrick groan, trying to dig his nails in where there was no purchase._ _

__“Just fine, eh?”_ _

__“Yup,” Patrick replied, glad he somehow refrained from the litany of ‘oh God’s’ that wanted to pour out of his mouth. He was not, by nature, talkative during sex, but it felt especially imperative not to completely lose his cool here._ _

__“C’mere,” Jonny said against his ear, rocking his hips in with a hard snap that Patrick felt down to the soles of his feet._ _

__It made Patrick gasp and involuntarily throw his head back and in that moment of vulnerable abandon, Jonny curled himself around him, forcing Patrick to turn his head. For a moment they just breathed against each other’s mouths, and Patrick felt a surety of sensation, a connection so deep it almost bowled him over. Oh fuck, he was absolutely going to say something stupid like ‘I love you,’ which was true, but obviously _not like that_ , if he didn’t do something right this second. _ _

__Stretching up onto his toes, he leaned the last few inches in to press his lips to Jonny’s open mouth. Jonny let out a pleased rumble and kissed back, tongue sliding against Patrick’s in a way that felt somehow more indecent than the lewd swivel of his hips, impaling Patrick over and over on his cock._ _

__Jonny didn’t really share about his sex life, and this was the first glimpse Patrick had into the fact that he apparently really, really liked it, enough to get good at it. So unfair. Patrick was pretty sure he still would’ve managed to have a good time and learn the lesson of internal stimulation of the prostate if Jonny was just a normal human. But Jonny didn’t do normal human, did he?_ _

__With Patrick’s mouth caught, Jonny’s hand slid down his slick chest, fingertips dragging over the flexing muscle in Patrick’s core, before finally curling into a loose fist around Patrick’s cock. When he stroked and thrust and kissed at the same time, it was almost too much, and Patrick who’d spent most of his life learning to hold things back couldn’t dam up his own guttural groans._ _

__He didn’t even realize how much he was rolling his hips until Jonny braced a palm on his hip to hold them together as Patrick bucked and pushed back against him._ _

__“Yeah, c’mon,” Jonny said between harsh breaths against his ear, dropping his chin to Patrick’s shoulder and holding still while Patrick rocked against him and cursed._ _

__He came, with a crazy feeling in his chest, like he’d just given more of himself to Jonny than he’d ever given to anybody._ _

__As he went through the aftershocks, uncontrollable shivers passing through his muscles, he realized he didn’t want Jonny to stop, even as he stilled Jonny’s hand on his dick. “Fuck, Jonny the fuck was that?”_ _

__Jonny got a hand back on his abs, like he was using them for purchase. “I believe they call that an orgasm,” Jonny said, like he was so smart, but his voice was all gravelly and low and it hit Patrick in an intimate place he didn’t even know he had._ _

__Jonny was practically vibrating with tension, still big and hard inside, but clearly waiting for Patrick to decide what happened next._ _

__Patrick, still buzzing from the afterglow, chewed at his lips, weighing whether he should disentangle himself now and leave Jonny to see to his own erection. Personally if the roles had been reversed, and Jonny had just used his dick to come while he gave him the reach around, Patrick would not have been pleased if Jonny then went, ‘okay see ya,’ and climbed out of the shower. Jonny, being who he was, would also never do that. Also, it was kind of Patrick’s fault that Jonny was in this shower with him. While he seemed to be, how to put it? Enjoying himself just fine, getting blue balled after being threatened by a demon didn’t seem like buddies._ _

__“Might as well give me the, um, full experience,” Patrick said, when Jonny still hadn’t made a move._ _

__Jonny sounded rueful when he replied, “God, you like to have too much, don’t you?”_ _

__Patrick craned his head on his neck to blink back at him. “Too much what?”_ _

__“You’re lucky there are some places where they won’t abuse that,” Jonny said, burying his face in Patrick’s shoulder, he sounded a little desperate, a little scared._ _

__“I wouldn’t trust just anybody,” Patrick protested._ _

__Jonny groaned, bracing a palm on the tile, and started to move, faster than before. It was punishing, but it was also a pain his body understood from the years and years of conditioning he’d put it through, of being stretched to the limit and still demanding more. He didn’t know what it said about him that he liked it so much._ _

__Patrick reached back, grabbing for any part of Jonny he could reach, and Jonny caught both of his hands, yanking them up above his head and pinning them to the tile so that Patrick was trapped, completely at Jonny’s mercy. The sound of his hips smacking against Patrick’s ass was loud in the shower cubicle. Patrick thought back to when he woke up this morning, he definitely had not seen himself with his arms stretched over his head, fingers laced together in larger hands, as he let himself be pounded into the tile, practically choking as Jonny’s cock hit that edgy place inside over and over._ _

__Needing an anchor, he squeezed down on their tangled fingers and Jonny squeezed back, stroking his thumb across the backs of Patrick’s knuckles. I’ve got you, that touch said, in that singularly Jonny way._ _

__Before he knew it, Patrick was twisting in on himself, somehow coming a second time, so hard it felt like actual exercise._ _

__He felt wrung out, and Jonny had to belt an arm around his waist to keep him from collapsing in a heap. He only realized that Jonny had come too when they slowly peeled away from each other, and Patrick finally turned around and saw his cock starting to soften._ _

__“You good?” Jonny asked gently._ _

__Patrick felt like a new space had been carved inside his body, but it felt good in a weird way._ _

__*_ _

__Jonny toweled down naked, while Patrick, wrapped in a ginormous fuzzy robe, leaned against the sink watching him. Jonny looked good. Tan, healthy, more weight on him than he’d had in years._ _

__He looked up, caught Patrick watching, and grinned._ _

__“I wasn’t checking you out!” Patrick insisted, with what he hoped was a suitably nonchalant shrug._ _

__“Sure,” Jonny said with a delighted laugh, rubbing the towel over his short hair._ _

__“I wasn’t!”_ _

__“Do you want some water?” Jonny asked over his shoulder as he strode out of the bathroom._ _

__Patrick, following him into the kitchen, explained, “I just wanna make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”_ _

__“Mmhm,” Jonny said, pulling two pre-filled Nalgene water bottles out of the fridge and tossing one to Patrick._ _

__Jonny, still unconcernedly naked, held his gaze as he unscrewed the cap on his own bottle and started drinking deeply, throat muscles working with each swallow. Patrick felt pinned down, strangely unable to look away. He’d seen Jonny naked in plenty of times, and he’d certainly seen him drink water, but there was something about this, the look in Jonny’s eye, the one that said he knew he’d caught Patrick in a lie in the bathroom._ _

__*_ _

__“You did that on purpose,” Patrick complained between gasps of breath, palms on Jonny’s chest as he rode him. They hadn’t even made it out of the kitchen. Jonny had blindly rummaged through the cabinets until he found coconut oil (‘don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, actually’) and that had been it for logistics._ _

__“Oh and then you just happened to trip and fall on my mouth with your mouth?” Jonny asked, flushed from his cheeks down to his chest. And wasn’t that interesting, Patrick pressed his fingers into it, watching the skin go briefly white before filling back in red. He dragged his nails over it, leaving four parallel marks that would be gone by morning._ _

__At least Paul couldn’t get mad at him for neglecting his after-game workout, his thighs and hams were on fire. Jonny picked up the slack, getting his lower body into it, and while Patrick had limited experience he suspected that being fucked by somebody with that much power in their posterior chain was a fucking gift._ _

__“Thank you?” Jonny said with a laugh._ _

__After only a few strokes Patrick gave up all pretense of helping out, and collapsed forward onto Jonny’s chest, digging his knees into the floor as he held himself firm against those powerful thrusts. Jonny had decent equipment, and he was more of a grower than a shower, a thing Patrick had known from years of shared hotel rooms and morning boners, but from this angle, with his cock punching up into Patrick’s body, he felt huge._ _

__Jonny’s fingers started to play back between his cheeks, stroking the opening, teasing, bringing awareness to that slick flesh in a way that had Patrick swearing and biting down on his lower lip._ _

__His fingers dipped down even further to press on his prostate externally and all it took was a few more strokes inside and Patrick’s caught, spine bowed, coming for the third time tonight. It tore out of him, his eyes gone wet at the corners. He fisted his hand in the weird rag rug on the kitchen floor, needing to hold on to something. Jonny didn’t even stop, just belted an arm around the small of his back, flipped their positions, and kept going._ _

__He clutched at Jonny’s broad back and thought how strange it was to know someone for decades and not know what they felt like, what they tasted like. An absurd thought, given that he’d known plenty of other people for just as long, and hadn’t ever thought...hadn’t ever thought...he looked up and accidentally met Jonny’s eyes, his back arched up off the floor and he went off again in two quick jets._ _

__“Jesus,” Jonny said, “is it always like this?”_ _

__Patrick shook his head. It felt like a strain on his body on par with being made to do laps around the ice at top speed, and he was starting to wonder if the demon had done something to him, eliminated his refractory period or something and just failed to tell him, because Patrick was 32 and his dick should not be able to do this. His prostate had become so sensitive that his watering eyes had become more like tears, and he was gripping Jonny so tightly internally his thrusts had become more like slow drags._ _

__But when Jonny pulled out, he couldn’t help but protest. He didn’t even entirely know why. Jonny shushed him and pressed a kiss to his mouth, reaching between them and jerking himself off to get the rest of the way there. Jonny had to have been close, because it didn’t take long before he groaned into Patrick’s mouth and came all over his belly._ _

__*_ _

__They both lay naked, sacked out on top of the covers on Jonny’s bed. Patrick hadn’t moved since collapsing back onto the bed, and one leg was hanging over the side, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His knees hadn’t liked their extended arrangement with the floor, and ordinarily he would never do anything to jeopardize his body, but he hadn’t even thought about it. Even now, lying on this bed, he felt warmth simmering low in his belly just thinking about it._ _

__Jonny’s hands were folded over his stomach, his eyes closed, but the corners of his lips were tilted ever so slightly upwards._ _

__“You know,” Patrick said, rolling over onto his side. “Maybe all you needed this whole time was to get laid.”_ _

__Jonny was a person of big emotions. When they were younger, that meant the incredible flashes of temper, as well as the joy and the devotion with which he approached everything. But he’d settled into himself as an adult better than anybody Patrick had ever met. He almost always had the right thing to say, and had figured out that even though his temper could fuel him on the ice, it wasn’t serving him off it. But the last few years had been hard. Patrick had known that, but Jonny had approached them with such equanimity. It was what it was, he was turning the page. And then one day he wasn’t feeling the best he’d said. They hadn’t paid enough attention. Somewhere Jonny had sat down and said, “I don’t know if I can.”_ _

__And Patrick had never heard him say that. And it had scared him. He was worried. Jonny acted fine over text. But he wasn’t really talking to anybody else. It felt like Jonny was slowly disappearing and he hadn’t gone so long in seeing him since he was 18, so he couldn’t see in the flesh until this night._ _

__But right now Jonny looked like he was doing pretty okay. Maybe all this time, all he really needed was to get his rocks off._ _

__“Oh you think maybe I should’ve found some pandemic glory hole? Fix me right up.”_ _

__Patrick shoved at his shoulder. “No, I’m saying since you’re not a normal person, and you don’t masturbate all that often, you needed to get laid, but how would any of us know that until me?”_ _

__“Oh I see, so by making me the target of a demon you were also kindly saving my life?”_ _

__“Exactly!”_ _

__Jonny snorted and shook his head. “Also I do.”_ _

__“You do, what? Know that I’m the best captain of all time?”_ _

__“Well best captain and saver of lives, I do masturbate.”_ _

__Patrick lifted his head off the bed to get a better look at him. “You do not!”_ _

__“Yes, just not during 45 minute showers or while you were trying to sleep,” Jonny replied dryly._ _

__“For the last time, I was not that loud, the blanket just made a lot of noise,” Patrick shot back._ _

__Jonny made a noise of outrage. “What are you talking about? ‘It was the blanket.’ You didn’t take your pants off and your watch kept clinking against your belt buckle!”_ _

__“In my defense, I was plastered!” Patrick pointed out. “I think we should all just be glad I made it back to the room.”_ _

__“And then you made me sound like some maniac who was punching the bed!” Jonny replied._ _

__“Well to be fair, you were some maniac punching the bed,” Patrick said, laughing._ _

__“I had finally gotten to sleep until I was woken up by what sounded like someone jerking off with a tin can! You had to be stopped!”_ _

__Patrick only laughed harder at Jonny’s indignant face. “I’m surprised you’ve never told anybody that part.”_ _

__“I’m surprised too,” Jonny said. He looked over at Patrick and smiled. “You better be careful. You tell too many lies about me to those rookies and I just might.”_ _

__“Well I have been telling them how great you are, but if you want me to stop, ack—” Jonny reached out for the right spot on his ribs for where he was ticklish._ _

__“Yes, very sorry to crush your life saving theory,” Jonny said._ _

__Patrick snickered. “Ah but see, that actually improves my theory, because then it means I’m just that good.”_ _

__Jonny had a slow sweet smile that Patrick had only ever seen him use on girls before—he’d seen it a lot in the beginning with Lindsey. It had certainly never been turned on him, and so Patrick was entirely unprepared for Jonny to tilt his head, his lips parting just slightly right before that smile spread across his face._ _

__Patrick’s breath caught._ _

__Jonny smoothly covered Patrick’s body from one move to the next, holding himself braced on his elbows._ _

__“You know it’s the release of oxytocin that causes rhythmic muscle contraction, and,” he paused, lips hovering just over Patrick’s, making the most ridiculous clinical word somehow sound hot, “ejaculation.”_ _

__He let his weight drop down, slotting a thick thigh between Patrick’s. “If there’s a high release of oxytocin, the orgasm will be more intense. The reason why sometimes you come and you feel like...okay that happened. And other times—it’s so hot, and so long—” Jonny ground against him, “you forget you have other body parts.”_ _

__Patrick bit his lip, somehow starting to stiffen after four orgasms. “Is this lesson going somewhere, professor Toews?”_ _

__“Well that, I believe, is what they call chemistry,” Jonny told him, “so you may be right, because that was...”_ _

__Patrick clutched his biceps._ _

__He needed one more time. That time in the kitchen as good as it was couldn’t be the last time they did this. It was like having a chance to take a shot on an empty net and just skating away from the puck._ _

__He grinned. “Well do you wanna fuck or just talk about it?”_ _

__*_ _

__Smearing coconut oil all over Jonny’s sheets, they went slow this time by necessity. Jonny again offered to bottom, but if Patrick was never going to do this again, he was going to make sure he’d got his fill. There were muscles in his body already protesting, screaming in reminder that he played a game earlier, that he’d already had athletic sex, on the floor no less. Part of that made it hotter though. Knowing that he felt this way because Jonny’s cock was inside him, the mere thought of which was a turn on._ _

__Right now that turn on lazily thrust inside of him, holding Patrick close._ _

__“That’s it, right there,” Patrick told him, wishing Jonny’s hair was longer in the back so he could sink his fingers into it and pull. While he was no stranger to telling Jonny what to do, he was used to having a jersey he could grab onto to direct Jonny exactly where he wanted._ _

__“Yeah?” Jonny asked, sliding his nose along Patrick’s cheek bone and pressing a kiss to his throat. He put just a little more purpose behind the rhythm of his hips, and it made Patrick want to spread his legs wider, inviting Jonny in somehow deeper. He wished jonny had a mirror on the ceiling so he could see it, at least some of it, each drive inside, the thick shaft disappearing into his body like it was meant for it, and Patrick couldn’t be altogether sure it wasn’t._ _

__Patrick’s breath rushed past his teeth in soft gasps._ _

__“I just knew this is you’d be like this,” Jonny said, his own grip on himself finally slipping, because he grabbed the edge of the mattress, like he needed it to hang on._ _

__“Thought about me a lot?” Patrick asked, aiming for the easy mockery that flowed between them, but landing somewhere very different, because he wanted _to know__ _

__“Mmm,” Jonny hummed, and before Patrick could push further, Jonny raised up onto locked arms, changing the angle of entry._ _

__“Holy—” Patrick sunk his teeth into his lower lip, a spasm going through his whole body._ _

__“How are your hamstrings feeling?” Jonny asked, tongue running over his lower lip like it did when he was thinking._ _

__“What?” Patrick blinked up at him. Trying to unscramble his thoughts. It was such an absurd question in the middle of all this. “Fine? Not tight. They got worked on after the game.”_ _

__“Good,” Jonny said, and then sat back on his knees and very nearly folded Patrick in half, his thighs pressed back to his chest, knees hooked over Jonny’s shoulders. He re-entered Patrick on a single stroke, hips meeting Patrick’s buttocks so there could be no doubt—he had all of Jonny’s cock inside him—and then he picked up the pace._ _

__Patrick cried out, stars whiting out behind his eyes. He was going to hit orgasm fast, he already knew, even though he could barely organize his thoughts beyond ‘fuck yes.’ He knew distantly that his forehead was pressed to Jonny’s, that he was clutching somebody’s hand—obviously also Jonny’s, that he’d completely lost control of his mouth and was saying stuff, he didn’t even know what anymore._ _

His orgasm, when it hit, seemed to go on forever, somehow reaching a new plateau every time he thought it was over. By the time he was finally wrung dry, he felt like he’d been double-shifted through four playoff overtime periods and his limbs dropped gracelessly to the bed. It felt good and it _hurt_ at the same time. How could this possibly be the last time? 

__“Jon?” he whispered, blinking up at him._ _

__Jonny made a noise in the back of his throat, and then he came like a freight train, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe it. And Patrick wanted him back. He needed him back. He was ready to start giving trophies away if it meant Jonny would come back—to Chicago, to the team, to him._ _

__“Don’t cry, Peeks,” Jonny was saying, brushing tears away from his eyes with gentle thumbs. “Please don’t cry.”_ _

__“Promise,” Patrick said, knowing that he was being totally embarrassing and somehow unable to stop._ _

__“What?” Jonny asked softly, cupping his cheek._ _

__“Promise you’re coming back.”_ _

__“I’m coming back,” Jonny told him, and kissed him._ _

__*_ _

__When Patrick woke up tangled in his sheets, with light streaming in through his curtains and his usual morning playlist pumping through the Sonos system he’d had installed, he sighed. He knew it had to be a dream. Demons and seeing Jonny and amazing sex, obviously none of that could possibly be real. What annoyed him was how sad that made him._ _

__“What the hell is wrong with me,” he announced to the empty room, flopping onto his back. He’d just scored 400 goals, he was about to hit 1000 games, and he was sad because a demon hadn’t actually showed up in his apartment to transport him to Arizona so that he and Jonny could fuck all night?_ _

__At just that moment his cell phone buzzed on the nightstand. He narrowed his eyes and picked it up. A text from Ovechkin? Since when did Ovi text him?_ _

__He opened the message:_ _

___Wasn’t me!!! Was zhenya!!! But I did enjoy my gift!!!! And Zhenya very happy with Catbus!!!!_ _ _

__*_ _


End file.
